


It's Always The Nice Ones

by Ryuutchi



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Embedded Images, Gen, Haru's Perfect Fashion Sense, Non-Graphic Violence, Yakuza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-09-30 07:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10157321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuutchi/pseuds/Ryuutchi
Summary: Haru and Yamamoto have a pleasant outing.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/gifts).



Everyone knew about Xanxus’ legendary temper. Gokudera regularly blew up the establishments of rival gangs. Hibari and Mukuro didn’t even bear talking about, their capacities for violence were so well-known. Bianchi’s temper was best not tempted if one wanted to ever be able to trust anything they put in their mouth ever again. Even the notoriously skittish Vongola Tenth had his moments of incandescent fury.

And then there were Yamamoto Takeshi and Miura Haru. They were the friendly ones. That is to say, they were the terrifying ones.  
-

“What do you think of my dress?” Haru twirled, the ruffles on her pale blue skirt flipping out in a satisfactorily cute way. She wasn’t actually looking at Yamamoto, who’d pulled bodyguard duty, for approval. Instead she spun again, checking the dress from all angles in a large mirror. 

It was a Haru special design, patterned and sewn herself for the upcoming Reborn-mandated “Get To Know The Local Yakuza” party. High-necked, with lace sleeves, a raw silk bodice and multi-layered ruffled skirt which fell to mid-thigh, she thought she looked every inch the European Mafia Wife. Maybe she wasn’t technically married to Tsuna yet, or even European, but it was best to keep up appearances. (She sewed a matching dress for Kyoko in pink and green, because she was perfectly willing to share.)

“It looks lovely on you,” Yamamoto said from where he stood, relaxed, against the doorframe. Honestly, he was pretty shaky on the concept of fashion-- Gokudera would have been a better choice for that-- but Haru did look nice and he was not the sort of person to pass up the opportunity to compliment a friend.

“Ahii~,” Haru laughed and clapped her hands. “Good, I want to make everyone so jealous of Tsuna they’re speechless.” She paused for a moment to scrutinize Yamamoto’s outfit. He’d never really grown out of the button-up tossed over a t-shirt look when he didn’t have to look dressed up. “I’m going to make you a nicer suit,” she decided. “I probably have enough time before the party on Saturday.”

Yamamoto, who had only been listening with half an ear, blinked at her. “What?”

Ignoring his confusion, Haru went rummaging through her supplies. “Measuring tape, measuring tape, where did it-- oh, there! Yamamoto, take your shirt off!” She popped up, and looked expectantly at the mafioso teen. 

“Eh? Aah, but Haru, if you make me a suit, shouldn’t you make them for the whole family? Otherwise we won’t match,” Yamamoto stammered, although his hands moved to the top buttons automatically.

She paused, considering the truth of his words. “You’re right. I’ll just have to measure everyone tomorrow!” 

Yamamoto breathed a small sigh of relief.  
-

After putting the dress away and sending out a quick text to let the Vongola Famiglia know about the next day’s measurement event, the two of them headed out towards the shopping center.

Unknown to the pair, a black car peeled out of a parking spot, following Yamamoto’s pretty little compact at a respectable distance. Stakeouts were boring, and kidnappings a little beneath the dignity of the yakuza who were driving a careful few car-lengths behind Yamamoto, but the Vongola did have a bit of a reputation for being explosive if not handled properly. Good thing it was just the baseball player they had to deal with, anyway. The girl would be no trouble and then that Vongola kid would be no trouble during the “party”.

When Yamamoto’s blue car pulled into a spot and Haru stepped out, the men made their move. They gunned the engine, and then slammed the brakes, blocking Yamamoto’s door from opening. One man jumped out to grab Haru, and shoved her headlong into their car. And then they took off.  
-

“HAHIIII~,” Haru yelped in shock as the men grabbed her-- hands on her _thigh_ , the jerk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“No offense, lady, but aniki wants a word with you.” The one who’d grabbed her grinned in a way that made her feel really gross and she grimaced, wiggling away. 

“Maybe more than a word,” the driver mumbled around his cigarette.

"The word is 'stop'," Haru harrumphed, scooting around to pull her skirt down, and then paused to smile at the man who had grabbed her. She wasn’t as good at the completely-guileless look as Kyoko. “I like talking to people. I hope he’ll be more polite.” She tilted her head and widened her eyes. The stupid chinpira frowned, clearly unaffected by her charms. Well, that was too bad, Haru decided, and checked her pockets  
-

It was a minor miracle that the men survived long enough for Yamamoto to find them. By the time he tracked down the black car, it was pulled over nearly on the sidewalk. He hummed off-key, tapping his fingers on the hilt of his sword and pulled the car door open. 

Haru was sitting on one man’s back, casually using her tape measure as a noose. The driver was holding his side where Haru had managed to kick him in the ribs hard enough to probably break something. 

The driver looked up at him, hands coming up in surrender. Yamamoto’s smile widened and he moved around the car-- swinging his sword, sheathe and all, down on the windshield. The yakuza yelled and scrambled out onto the sidewalk. Yamamoto took two long steps towards him and leaned down. “Go home and tell your aniki that Vongola plays nice when everything’s above-board. Otherwise,” he waved a hand at the car, and Haru grinned, waving with the hand which didn’t have a death grip on her measuring tape. The man yelled again and took off, leaving his unfortunate friend to Haru’s mercy.

Haru looked up at Yamamoto and then down at the half-conscious yakuza. “He’s about your size. I’ve always wanted a human mannequin.”

Yamamoto rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> "Chinpira" is a term for a low-ranking yakuza. It also has the implication of a "tiny dick".
> 
> Gold Foil textures courtesy of Blixa 6 Studios, magnolia watercolor courtesy of Peace ART.


End file.
